


Trenty-TrentyOne Ways to Die

by Aetherion



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Gen, Other, Warning: Trent Ikithon, please heed the warnings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 12:48:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29700780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aetherion/pseuds/Aetherion
Summary: Ever wondered what it would be like to kill Trent? Can't wait for the cartharsis of Caleb or the Mighty Nein doing it? Well here's the fic for you!
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14





	1. The Magician

After a long gruelling battle, Trent Ikithon, the feared Archmage of Civil Influence, was finally subdued. Bound by anti-magic shackles recovered from Aeor and physically to a sturdy chair by rope, the old man was still the picture of composure in the face of his foes.

"Well done Bren, well done indeed. I always knew you had it in you."

Fjord's offhand hypothetical was remarkably prophetic, with Caleb's former mentor and tormentor defeated and helpless before him. Caleb, still recovering his breath from the countless counterspells he had to weave to ensure Ikithon's capture, could barely muster enough hate to look up and glare at him one last time.

"What are you going to do now Bren? Torture me? Make me suffer like your parents?" 

Trent's taunts, would have rattled him a year ago, perhaps even a month ago. Caleb would have flown into an animalistic rage, forgoing all magic and all that he has grown in the time with the Mighty Nein, to throttle Ikithon to blessed silence.

"You were groomed for this very moment. Ever since you came to the Solstryce Academy, everything you've achieved has come to this. You are my child, my creation."

Blood would have pounded through his veins, his own heartbeat drowning out all rational thought, dulled his senses to not notice.. There! Ikithon's fingers twitched in one last attempt to teleport out. The plan had been thorough, in the ways only a Scourger knew of ending mages. A textbook counterspell from Caleb's hands put an end to that. A wry grin twisted Trent's face, as though this was all part of his plan.

"Do it. Take my place. Serve our Empire. Deliver us to glory from the filth that we are."

And he would have. With fire. With the disintegrate spell. Perhaps even dunamancy to display how far he has gone in pursuit of revenge.

  
But weariness had won over vengeance. Caleb shook his head, and turned to leave, saying "My duty to the Empire is done. To remove a cancer like you is patriotism enough."

For once, perhaps in his life, a look of surprise stole over Ikithon's face. This was not how it was supposed to go. His noble sacrifice. His wayward children. His legacy.

"Come back Bren!"

"BREN!"

Caleb left without a backward glance, the chamber empty except for the ravings of Ikithon.

And a tall half-orc figure behind him, hefting a gleaming blade two-handed.

* * *

  
Caleb was already tracing the incantations of his tower, a wonderous creation of love for his friends, when Fjord emerged from the Candles with a jig in his step, looking absurdly pleased.

"We are even now, ja?"

Fjord drawled, a toothy grin displaying his tusks, "It was hard work, dismembering him into several pieces, but so very satisfying. I believe I am deeply in your debt."


	2. 2. The High Priestess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The High Priestess. She's coming for Ickythong and he can't see the silly, sticky end coming for him. ~Hew many foe-man~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What a fine coincidence, the protaganist of this chapter which I planned for just so happens to be in the thick of the cliffhanger Matt left us with. Spent too long this week figuring out the details of how I wanted this to go, went fuck it this is my word vomit. WARNING: Blood and gore. I'm not sure if this is the kind of chapter I want to keep writing, too much bloody detail, too much tell and not show. I prefer plots that snare and stumble than brutally bashing a fictional character. Nevertheless, if you're here for a bit of true Trenty torment, enjoy!

"Well, isn't this curious?"

Oh its Trent Ickythong.

Fuck shit balls fuckshitballs

Okayokayokay, Artie always says, take them by surprise. "Heeey Master Ickythong we just wanted to borrow some of these trinkets you have lying around doing nothing. We're so sorry we haven't got enough real money to pay you buuut" Rummaging through her bag, Jester pulled out the golden dick statue Caleb made for her on Rumblecusp "here you can have this as collateral, we'd bring the amulets back."

"Bren, what feeble excuses of friends you have, I'm disappointed" Trent's pitiless gaze did not leave Caleb, completely dismissing Jester and Veth, who was aiming her crossbow unwaveringly at him. A mistake of course, didn't he know? She is the high priestess of the totally-not-a-cult of the Traveller, or just his favorite same thing really. She made a silent prayer for his direct intervention "Artie can you do the Lucien thing and stop Icky from using magic? And i don't know kick him or something".

Unlike Lucien, Ikithon did not have preternatural senses or eyes in the back of his head, which would have been helpful in seeing the hooded fey materialize behind him and execute a perfect Bladegarden kick. Silver chains unfurled from the sleeves of Artagan, binding Trent's hands and wrapping around his mouth. Trailing wildly in the air, they followed Trent's tumble down the flight of stairs he carelessly stood atop of to make his dramatic entrance. He landed in a heap, taking many a bump on the way down. There he lay, groaning and unable to get up or cast a spell. Nothing but a feeble old man, who's greatest achievement that day, was not perish from an untimely fall.

Artagan sighed "And he was becoming such a good villain too, pity he didn't see the pitfalls of theatre. Don't monologue!" Winking at Jester, he stage-whispered "it only lasts a minute" before vanishing from sight.

Caleb and Veth, stunned by this reversal, snapped to and pounced on Trent, viciously looting his robes both for treasure and to deprive him of any tricks he had up his sleeves. "Aha," Caleb riffled through some scrolls in Trent's robes, uncovering a scroll of Disintegrate that could dispel the barrier. Hesitating for a brief moment, he handed the scroll to Veth "Now you can loot to your heart's content, I will see off the guards."

"Jester, could you..?" He trails off, confusion and heightened emotions causing his words to stumble. "I should...shouldn't"

"I trust you." he says more firmly. So saying, he disguised himself as Trent, before the real Ikithon's horrified gaze, and spoke the last words to the architect of his tragedy "I've seen what that one can do with an axe, and she was trying not to kill the man." An impossibly soft smile appeared on Caleb-Trent's face before he marched away down the corridor.

Veth, equally horrified and delighted by the day's violence, lay a reassuring hand on Jester's shoulder "Won't take long this time, promise. Just...be done when I'm back okay?"

The cruelty of the man before her had hardened Jester's heart; the thought of all those that have suffered because of him, of all the lives lost and wasted, of all the pain- he deserved a thousandfold and more returned to him. Pity they didn't have long enough. Or perhaps not, a gleeful sparkle took in Jester's eyes

"Get him Sprinkle"

It turns out that Sprinkle _has_ a taste for human flesh as Fjord suspected. He was a great help, gorging on the soft parts of Ikithon's face and pinning one of his arms as Jester held down the other and hacked at it. Unfortunately she only had a small one-handed axe and so it was quite laborious to fully dismember the archmage. She hummed along to one of the sea shanties she heard from the sailors in her childhood, letting the rhythm match her axe strokes, drowning out Trent's muted shrieks. She had only finished the two arms before Veth came back, pouches bulging with trinkets, eyes wide, taking in the gory scene of a minute's work. Blood liberally flecked the walls, pooling on the floors; the coats of Jester and her rabid red weasel were soaked with vitae. 

"Come on Jessie, we've pushed our luck for enough, even for me, lets just go"

"Aw come on, I took off his hands just so he can't cast, we've got more time."

"Oh in that case" Veth whipped up her crossbow and loosed a bolt, nailing Trent in the stomach.

"Eeurgh Icky guts, I think we're done here today" Jester considered it a moment, then nodded in agreement.

Patting the barely-conscious Ikithon's head "Wait just a sec, finishing touches" Grabbing ahold of his neck, she unleashed a burst of necrotic energy, leaving the flesh dessicated and with a casual twist, tore his skull from his ravaged body. Redistributing her other burdens, she deposited it into a treasure chest, resolving to secure it, maybe for questions, maybe to stop anyone from resurrecting Trent. Or they could revive him just to kill him again who knows? The duo made their way without issue to the strange patch of fog in the forest, regrouping with the rest of the Nein. Worn from her grim work, Jester took a final glance and cast Firestorm, consigning the miserable place to flame and ash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda bandaid for the ending of ep 127, a bloody band-aid? Soooo if I kill Ickythong before the next epsiode he can't hurt them right that how it works right?? /s  
> Writing this was an experience, to say the least.

**Author's Note:**

> This one is for Vanni, glorious overlord of the Widojest Server, known Trent simp, who changed their nickname to trenty-trentyone to celebrate the new year (totally not yoinking your pun and murdering your idol /s plz no ban). AND my folks in #polls and tarot in the same server, got into tarot cards because of yall and it has made me much happier, putting on my clown makeup every week with you <3
> 
> 21 ways to kill Trent Ickythong. 22 Major Arcana cards. Eeeh I'll find a way to make it work. Also, this is the first fanfiction project I'm embarking on, so feel free to leave your comments below! If you've got a way you want to see Ikithon die, tell me! If I ever finish the major arcana, I promised myself I'd write one every day until Ikithon actually dies (with a cap of 2021, which would take me over 7 years). And if you're wondering if this is an evil AU....well possibly? Its closer to spite, which literally kept me alive for a year. But thats another talk for my theoretical therapist.


End file.
